better than chocolates
by QueenPersephoneofHades
Summary: Being awoken in the dead of night by your wayward assassin girlfriend isn't quite the Valentine's gift most people would ask for.


A soft thump from upstairs normally wouldn't be quite enough to awaken her from her slumber. Certainly not in the middle of the night – or early in the morning, as it were. Especially not after the all-nighter she'd pulled last night, and the spirited movie marathon she'd been dragged into today.

But nearly fifteen years spent in one warzone or another certainly did wonders for one's situational awareness; it only took dull noise an entire floor up to make Angela's head rise from her rumpled pillow, staring blearily at the ceiling and irrationally wishing she wasn't in bed alone.

What was-?

"Athena?" she murmured, blinking at the dim glow of the holographic clock display on her nightstand. It was barely past two. "Did Genji come to visit Jesse again?"

The lack of immediate reply had the doctor sitting up abruptly, rubbing the vestiges of sleep from her eyes as she climbed out of bed.

Erring on the side of caution as was her wont, she reached underneath her mattress for the spare blaster she kept there, an old habit of Gabriel's she could never seem to let go.

Pulling on a bath robe with one hand in a practiced motion, Angela left her bedroom behind, blaster at the ready.

She wasn't the only one on base, and probably shouldn't head into a potentially dangerous situation alone of course, but given the day's date and the rather… _enthusiastic_ sounds she'd heard from more than one bedroom down the hall, she felt it best to try and handle the situation herself if she could. She kept her emergency com with her blaster for a reason; contingency plans were her specialty.

 _Gott,_ Valentines Day was not a holiday she'd intended to spend alone.

Moping would certainly get her nowhere, so she shook her head and headed for the elevator. The doors swished open silently, and the car headed up with no hassle, so the base's systems weren't down completely, but Athena remained suspiciously mute the whole ride up.

The doctor breathed deeply in, out. Talon didn't know about this base. Not yet, at least. Only the few remaining Overwatch veterans and the few misfit recruits they'd picked up here and there since Winston's call went out should have any idea they were here. The only nonmember who knew their location was darling Emily, and Angela couldn't honestly see Lena's darling partner selling them out.

Jack always said she was too trusting. She'd said he was too paranoid.

But maybe she'd grown a little paranoid in her time away from Overwatch. As the elevator door opened to the third-floor corridor, she held her blaster in front of her, facing the ground, safety on, but ready.

It didn't take a genius to figure out which room the noise had come from. The door was open, spilling flickering candle light into the stark metal hallway.

Confused but still suspicious – had some of the others snuck off for a late-night rendezvous? – she crept forward, grip going lax on her weapon as she peeked around the doorframe.

The window was open, letting in a beam of moonlight and a cool night breeze that carried the scent of the ocean and sweet rose petals. The room, normally one of countless offices that hadn't seen much use even in Overwatch's glory days, was normally home to a standard pair of desks and chairs with a holotable set in the center.

The holotable was rather large, and even while not in use it didn't usually have anything on top of it. It didn't normally have a lacy white tablecloth with flowering vines embroidered on them spread all across the top, nor did they ever have a trio of cheap candles lit on the surface. And it didn't normally have a box of delectable chocolate-covered crepes on it either.

It only took a few seconds for Angela to take in these new details, so by the time she felt unnaturally cool, smirking lips lightly press against her neck, she'd loosened her grip enough on her blaster enough so that she didn't nearly shoot the one responsible.

She did instinctively try to elbow them in the sternum though, resulting in a rather strong grip catching her arm and twisting it behind her back, not quite painful and not quite gentle.

"My, my," a familiar lilt in her ear made Angela shiver involuntarily. "How do they say it again? 'Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,' _oui?_ "

A smile, warm, relieved, so _happy,_ lifted Angela's lips as the involuntary lonely gloom that had plagued her all day lifted completely.

" _Liebling!_ " She couldn't quite stop her voice from breaking as she turned carefully in Amélie's hold, which was quickly released before she could accidentally hurt herself in her excitement. "You came!"

The twist to Amélie's lips was wry. "Of course, _mon cher_. I did promise, didn't I?"

A rather immature pout made Angela look far younger than she was. "You're late," she pointed out, stubbornness not allowing her to give in completely. "By _seven hours._ "

Amélie didn't wince. Her mask of cool impassivity never allowed for such a clear sign of weakness. "I had a job that couldn't be put off."

Angela did wince at that. It hurt, to hear Amelie sounding so callous about being sent to kill an innocent person.

It hurt, and she _hated it._

Her cold mask. Her assassin's mask. The face she'd been forced to wear for ten years under Talon's control. The mask she now maintained in an effort to gain the secrets to destabilize and destroy the organization that had forced her to kill her husband.

She choked.

" _Amélie-_ "

" _Non, mon cher._ " A cool hand pressed against Angela's cheek and she was suddenly drowning in ocher eyes. "I'm sorry for bringing it up again. Today is supposed to be a happy day. We can talk about it in the morning, okay?"

' _No we won't._ ' Angela thought, and tried for a convincing smile.

Amélie's smirk was brittle as she made a show of spinning her partner around and directing her attention back to the table. "I found the little bakery on the corner you told me about and picked up all of your favorites."

Appetite conspicuously absent, Angela had to admit, "You didn't have to, Amélie _._ I already received quite a few sweets from Genji and the girls."

The practiced shrug of slender shoulders would look casual on anyone else. "I didn't have time to grab anything else on the way here. I thought you'd appreciate the gift."

Finally, she didn't have to fake anything; Angela grinned, just pressed her face into her secret partner's neck. "I'm just glad you're here, _Liebling._ That's all the gift I need."

* * *

 **A/N: I tried for fluff and ended up with an odd fluff-angst fest. And it's late to boot. Oh well. I haven't written anything in a while, so I consider this a success. Hope you liked!  
~Persephone**


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